Four Red Diamonds (A Lady Marmalade Mystery Short Story Collection Book 1)

by Jason Blacker

  “Well done, Lady Marmalade,” said Winnie, smiling. “Well done, indeed.”

  “Good work, my Lady,” said Joseph.

  “Thank you,” said Evan.

  Ethel turned around to look at Lewis.

  “Well,” she said, “what do you have to say for yourself?”

  Lewis was visibly upset. He took his handkerchief and wiped it across his forehead. He felt exposed and small.

  “You have no idea what it’s like. The Major ruined me. I had nothing left. The stress killed my wife and I’m getting kicked out of my home because I’m late on the rent. He took everything from me and promised to make me a partner. He even said I could run the tavern. He was just a horrible, self-centered man, who only cared about himself. He killed my wife, he’s ruined me. He killed other fine men,” said Lewis looking at both Captain Houghton and Evan Cross. “I have nothing left. Nothing.”

  Lewis turned around and opened the window.

  “No, don’t!” said Lady Marmalade.

  Captain Houghton heard Lady Marmalade and then realized what Lewis was about to do. He took off quickly towards him, but he was too late. Lewis had the window open. He climbed onto a chair and then jumped out of the window. The dark night swallowed him up whole. The last they heard was his brief quick scream. But the train was moving fast through that dark night, minutes away from York.

  “I have to get the Engineer to stop the train!” shouted Joseph as he ran off out of the dining carriage.

  Ethel turned to look at Lady Marmalade.

  “Why do you think he did that?” she asked. “Throwing himself out of the window like that. I meant what I said about getting him his money back.”

  Lady Marmalade smiled sadly at Ethel.

  “He had nothing left to live for, dear,” Lady Marmalade said. “Your father had taken everything from him. Even if you gave him that money back, he’d never be able to use it, spending the rest of his life in jail.”

  “He was right about one thing, though,” said Ethel. “My father was a mean spirited and selfish man. I can’t say I’m terrible torn up about him being dead.”

  Ethel smiled at Lady Marmalade. But there was no happiness in that smile. It was the practiced smile developed through the years of an unhappy childhood. A smile that only the British could perfect, through much sadness, difficulties and sorrow. Perhaps it was also the smile of a promised future. Or maybe it was the smile of still floundering childhood wishes.

  Lady Marmalade looked outside through the open window. The train was louder now. The wheels clacking rhythmically over the wooden beams of the track, like the seconds from a ticking clock marking time, offering new choices every moment. The choices we make and the promises we break. The sad lives made by choosing the wrong side of the tracks.

  Lady Marmalade sighed. She was tired. A long night that had only gotten longer. She would need to speak with Inspector Warrick of York soon, so she made her way to her compartment to ready herself for the retelling.

  Misery's Company

  Lady Marmalade came in from the garden carrying a large bouquet of yellow daffodils. Ginny Johnson, her housekeeper, was checking in on the lamb roast when Lady Marmalade entered the kitchen.

  “Would you like me to get those for you, mum?” asked Ginny, looking up.

  “No, thank you, dear,” replied Lady Marmalade. “I’m going to cut them and put them in a vase with fresh water for the dinner table.”

  “They will brighten things up marvelously, mum,” said Ginny, smiling.

  Ginny was in her late forties and had been with Lady Marmalade, and Lord Marmalade before his passing, since she was in her early twenties. She had a very pleasant disposition considering she was a spinster. It was what many kindly considered her horse’s face that perhaps had kept her from finding a husband. In any event, she didn’t seem to mind and everyone loved her just the same for her warmth. Ginny was a slim redhead, pale of complexion with many freckles.

  Lady Marmalade looked up after putting the freshly cut flowers into a vase. She put the scissors down and laid her gardening gloves next to them on a side table. She went over to the sink and poured cold water into the vase.

  “How is the lamb coming along, Ginny?” asked Marmalade.

  “Perfectly, mum, shouldn’t be more than another half hour at the most.”

  Lady Marmalade smiled at her.

  “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Ginny. You’re such a good cook, really.”

  “Thank you, mum, it is a pleasure to be able to offer my services to you,” said Ginny.

  Lady Marmalade looked up at the clock on the far kitchen wall. It was five o’clock.

  “Perfect,” said Marmalade, “I expect Sir Tony will be here at six p.m. just like his punctual self, with the others not long behind.”

  “Everything will be ready, mum,” said Ginny.

  “Thank you, Ginny. I’m going to put these flowers out and then take a moment to freshen myself up.”

  “Very good, mum.”

  Lady Marmalade left the kitchen and entered the hall of her home, an estate really, but she wasn’t pretentious that way. As she walked down the hallway towards the dining room she bumped into Alfred Donahue, her butler.

  He was an impeccable gentleman of a man, upon whom black suits and tuxedos seemed tailor-made. He was of similar age to Lady Marmalade, and in his late sixties he was the epitome of sanguine health. Children adored him like a favorite grandfather and young ladies loved him as if he were their own father. He was kindly, sincere and always pleasant.

  “Good day, M’lady,” said Alfred, bowing with his hands clasped behind his back.

  He had stepped aside to allow Lady Marmalade to pass, though the hallways were wide enough for the both of them.

  Lady Marmalade paused for a moment and smiled at Alfred. Alfred had been with her late husband before they were married. Eric, Marmalade’s late husband, had been a loyal chap and Alfred had first entered Marmalade’s service when Alfred was twenty-one.

  Though Eric had left both Alfred and Ginny an endowment on his passing, they both preferred to, and promised Eric that they would, continue to serve Lady Marmalade for so long as they could, by God’s kind graces.

  Alfred’s thinning gray hair was combed back, not a single strand misplaced. He smiled back at her.

  “Are you looking forward to your guests, M’lady?” asked Alfred.

  “Oh yes, Alfred, it will be very fun to see them again. I can’t remember the last time I entertained so many at once.”

  “It was in the spring, M’lady,” offered Alfred.

  “Good Lord, was it really, that’s over three months ago. Seems like ages already.”

  Alfred smiled.

  “Time sometimes limps along and at other times it seems to dash sprightly, M’lady.”

  Lady Marmalade smiled, still holding the vase with its daffodils.

  “Are you looking forward to seeing anyone especially, Alfred?”

  “I like all of your friends, M’lady, though to confess, I am looking forward to Sir Anthony Gibbons. He’s always good for an entertaining story, M’lady.”

  “Yes, yes, he is.”

  “Can I help you with your daffodils, M’lady?” asked Alfred.

  Lady Marmalade looked at her hands and the vase in them, almost forgetting for a moment that they were there.

  “Oh, no thank you, Alfred, I’m just going to put them on the dining table before our guests arrive.”

  “Very good, M’lady,” said Alfred, bowing again as Lady Marmalade made her way to the dining room.

  She placed the vase of daffodils like bright toy windmills in the middle of the table and stepped back to look at them. They seemed small on the large table that seated eight with ease. But then she remembered that it could be taken in to hold a cozier six. At that size the daffodils would hold their own perfectly.

  Alfred walked in as Lady Marmalade took one last look at the flowers.

  “Oh good, I’m glad you
’re here, Alfred. Would you do me a favor and remove the leaf from the table. We’re only having four guests tonight.”

  “Of course, M’lady. Once again you have read my mind. I was just coming in to do that,” said Alfred smiling.

  Lady Marmalade nodded and made her way out of the dining room,along the hall and up the stairs where she went to rest in her bedroom for a bit before her guests came. She sat at her makeup table and stared into the mirror.

  Out of the corner of her eye she saw the photograph of her and Eric. It was their wedding day. April the first, 1903. They looked so elegant, so young in that black and white image. Eric, tall and handsome with his pencil mustache, and Lady Marmalade with her long curly dark brown hair, making an adorable couple. The pencil mustache had been a phase, though a fun one at that.

  The wedding was the talk of London on that first Sunday, the fifth of April, when it was covered extensively in the Sunday Times.

  King Edward VII and Queen Alexandria were in attendance with other royalty and government officials of the United Kingdom. Lady Marmalade smiled. It was really such a lovely affair. The wedding of the year, so the Sunday Times proclaimed it. And it was. At least for her and Eric.

  His family, being one of the largest landowners in the British Isles and therefore one of the wealthiest, were always in the spotlight. Many women’s hearts were broken when Eric took Frances’ hand in marriage. But hers was made full.

  Lady Marmalade sighed. She dabbed at the corner of her eyes. They were getting misty. Her mind was edging towards 1939. A year she’d rather forget. She glanced down one more time at the photo and smiled sadly. She coughed, finished up her makeup, and stood up from the dresser.

  Lady Marmalade went downstairs and checked up on Ginny who, as usual, had everything under control. She walked into the living room and poured herself a gin and tonic and sat down in one of the chairs, closer to the fire. It was late August and even though the waning summer days were warm, the evenings were still cool here up in the Lake District at Ambleside.

  Avalon at Ambleside, one of the oldest homes in this part of the county where Lady Marmalade now sat, kept itself cool despite the best efforts of the many fires to keep the interior warm. It was her summer home. One of them at least, where she went when she needed some time to reflect and contemplate.

  The big hand on the grandfather clock in the corner of the room was reaching for north. It would be six in just a few short minutes. Tony would be here soon. Lady Marmalade smiled. She had always enjoyed his company; he was worth a good story every time he came by.

  As she lost herself in reverie the clock chimed six and moments later there was the tap, tap, tap, tap, pause, tap, pause, tap, tap, tap, tap of Sir Gibbons’ signature rapping. Lady Marmalade got up and walked to the front door where Alfred was opening the door for Sir Gibbons.

  “Good to see you, sir,” said Alfred, bowing.

  “And you too, old chap,” said Anthony. “You saved my soul.”

  Anthony was portly and ruddy in complexion with twinkling eyes and a hearty voice and laugh. Alfred smiled genuinely at him.

  “May I take your hat and coat, sir?”

  “That would be lovely, thank you, Alfred,” said Anthony.

  Anthony handed over his hat and overcoat to Alfred.

  “Ah, my dear Lady,” said Anthony. “So good to see you again, Fran. You look absolutely marvelous. I swear you’re getting younger by the day.”

  Lady Marmalade smiled at him and gave him a hug. They kissed on the cheeks, and walked side by side to the living room followed by Alfred.

  “If I recall, sir, you like your single malt straight,” said Alfred.

  “That would be delightful, Alfred. Thank you,” said Anthony.

  Lady Marmalade and Anthony Gibbons sat down on a couch together while Alfred poured Anthony a drink.

  “Tell me, Tony,” said Frances, “how do you manage to always be so perfectly punctual?”

  Anthony looked over at Lady Marmalade and raised his eyebrows. He chuckled.

  “Now that would be telling, wouldn’t it?” he said. “Though in truth, I arrived half an hour ago and just watched my pocket watch until six came.”

  He winked at her. Lady Marmalade laughed and slapped him across the shoulder. Alfred came by and proffered the Scotch.

  “Just in the nick of time, Alfred, I’m parched. Thank you.”

  Alfred bowed as he left to wait on the other guests as they might arrive.

  “Actually, Fran,” said Anthony, looking at Lady Marmalade, “I think it’s all that time I spent in the navy that’s made me so punctual, you know. The Great War, as they call it.”

  Lady Marmalade smiled and nodded.

  “Though, I hope we’ve seen the last of these wars. Great or otherwise. I see nothing grand or great in death. But let’s not be somber,” said Anthony.

  “How are things with your practice?” asked Lady Marmalade.

  “Terrific, I’m actually in the process of selling my surgery. I’m getting too old for full-time work, and I want to spend more time out here in the country. I might go in once a week or a few times a month, but I have a very eager, very bright young chap who is starting out who is going to take the practice off my hands.”

  “That’s wonderful.”

  “But more importantly,” said Anthony, “how are you?”

  Lady Marmalade sipped on her gin.

  “Everything is wonderful, Tony,” she said. “Declan is pretty much running our business now and doing a marvelous job of it. His father would be proud. Amelia is off in India with her husband and three children. He’s with the foreign office and they’re scheduled to be there for five years so I might have to make a trip out there to see them. I miss my grandchildren. In the meantime, I potter around the Lake District.”

  Anthony smiled at Frances and patted her knee.

  “You never were a very good liar, Fran, you know?” he said chuckling. “I mean how are you doing. I know that the 25th of September is just a few weeks away, and that will be the ninth anniversary since Eric left us.”

  Lady Marmalade looked away for a moment and her eyes clouded over with sadness. She blinked the tears away and then looked into her drink before taking another sip.

  “You have a gentle way of putting it, Tony. I rather think that Eric was stolen. Was robbed from us,” she said.

  He nodded and looked at her intently. His eyes were soft and searching. Lady Marmalade took a moment to collect herself. Even after all this time it was still hard. She cleared her throat.

  “It’ll be nine years,” she said, looking at Tony.

  “I know,” he said, “I miss him too.”

  “It’s gotten easier. It really has. But each anniversary of his death just reminds me of what a jewel I lost. What a gem we all lost, really.”

  Tony nodded.

  “That is true. He was one of a kind. A gentleman beyond compare and someone I am humbly proud to have called a dear friend.”

  More knocking at the door and Alfred, who was off in the kitchen, came out to answer it. Tony squeezed Lady Marmalade on the knee.

  “I have just the brain teaser of a story for tonight that I think you’ll quite like. Eric would have loved it too, I’m sure,” said Tony.

  Both Frances and Tony got up and carried their drinks out into the hallway to greet the other guests. Ellis Hutchinson and Lilly, his wife, were just arriving. They were in their fifties and fit. A modern and good looking couple who were both on the forefront of the latest fashions. They spent a small fortune keeping up appearances. It was a good thing that Ellis’ spice business was as successful as it was or they might be up to their eyeballs in debt instead of up to their waistbands.

  Nobody knew each other very well, only having met casually on a few occasions. They all moved back into the living room where Alfred put drinks in Ellis’ and Lilly’s hands as well as topping up Frances and Tony. The four of them stood huddled close to the fire with Ellis leaning his forearm over
the mantle.

  “Jane shouldn’t be too long,” said Lady Marmalade, “and then we shall eat.”

  “Wonderful,” said Tony, “I’m absolutely famished and your home, Fran, smells delicious. I must get you to have Ginny give my girl, Henrietta, her best recipes so that I can enjoy food like this every day.”

  “Too right,” said Ellis, “ever so kind of you to invite us over again, Frances.”

  “It really is my treat,” said Frances, “and I dare say it’s been a bit too long, I should think.”

  “Well, if you insist,” said Lilly, “then certainly, it’s been way to long.”

  They all laughed. In fact, the last time the four of them had been in the same room was a few years back towards the end of the war.

  “How is business, Ellis?” asked Tony. “If I remember correctly, you were in the spice business, correct?”

  Ellis nodded. And although impeccably dressed, his thick black curls of hair always seemed to be fighting with each other. They seemed ever so recently tousled and jostled. It highlighted his rakish and handsome good looks. In many ways it was his signature look really.

  “Business has been getting better and better over these last few years. The war did nothing for us, of course. In fact, it nearly ruined us. But I’m happy to say, we’ve been well in the black since forty-six.”

  Tony clinked his glass with Ellis’.

  “That’s good news, I’ll drink to that,” said Tony.

  “Hear, hear,” said Ellis. “And how is your surgery?”

  “I’m an old man,” winked Tony, to which Ellis chuckled, “and I’ve decided to get out of the slice and dice business. I’m selling it to a very smart and young doctor. All going well, and I should be finished with my practice by the end of the year. At least in full.”

  Ellis nodded.

  “Though you’ll keep yourself in it part-time then? Is that what I’m hearing?”

  Tony laughed.

  “Yes, by dribs and drabs I’ll slowly let old habits die hard.”

  The door was knocked again, and Alfred opened it. A flustered Jane Howard stood at the door.

  “Hello, Alfred,” she said, smiling weakly.

  Alfred bowed.